Friday, November 09, 2012

Hubby is in charge of cooking around here when he's home, but when he's gone or busy I do try to help out. I'll be honest, I haven't cooked anything in a while, a long while due to being sick then on deadline. I also hadn't used my ATM card in weeks since I didn't go shopping so forgot the password and can't for the life of me remember it. Not good.

I don't complain about what hubby cooks because, well, he's doing it and I'm not. If there's something I don't feel like eating, I'll say so when he asks what I want, but pretty much whatever hubby puts in front of me I eat.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday morning, I was starving. I couldn't believe how hungry I was so hubby offered to make me an omelet. TA couple eggs, some spinach and mushrooms. I skip the cheese after Whole 30. Easy-peasy, right?

I took a bite.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

What the... I spit it out.

Omelets shouldn't crunch when you chew. At least none I've had.

I studied what was on my plate. It looked like an omelet but it sure didn't taste like one.

I faced a big dilemma. Here I was with breakfast in bed that my wonderful hubby had cooked. Except I had no idea what those crunching granules were. My "no complaining" rule was mocking me.

I decided to try another bite.

Same thing.

At this point I'm dying to eat. The kids Halloween candy was looking like a healthy breakfast option. I told my youngest to ask dad if he put anything crunching into the omelet because this one tasted funny.

A minute later, hubby appeared bedside with a very contrite look on his face. He told me "some" of the egg shell "may have" fallen in to the omelet.

That is something that can happen to anyone. You have to give him a A for at least trying to fix something. My hubby want even try to cook so I have to do it all, even when I am sick. I wouldn't know what breakfast in bed was.